


Hands

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hand Fetish, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was his hands Christa noted first, not his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

_Hands_

 

          It was his hands that Christa noted first, not his face. She had assisted Neal in surgeries many times now, and her eyes always seemed to be focused on his hands. They were large, and his fingers were long and thin. Christa had wondered vaguely if Neal had ever played piano. She could easily imagine him focusing with the same intensity on the black and white keys as he did when he operated on a patient. _It would be…beautiful,_ Christa thought before she could stop herself. _What am I thinking?_ she thought as her blue eyes focused on Neal’s hands again. _This is…_ my mentor _that I’m thinking about._ And yet, Christa thought as she took in the scene of Neal’s hands – gloved and covered in blood – using the scalpel, it only took a moment for Christa to realize what Gina had meant by Neal’s hands being art itself. _He’s a good – no, excellent surgeon._ Christa risked a glance at him, feeling her eyes observing his face. _He told me that it was a long story, and he doesn’t like to be called a surgeon._

         It had been six months since Christa had become a doctor and started as a resident at Angles Memorial. The blond had found herself spending more time with the doctor from England – she had been surprised, for she had thought she would have connected more with Dr. Rorish from knowing the pain of losing a son. She remembered Neal telling her he was sorry for what happened to her son, and her own words came back to haunt her. _“I’m not looking for pity. I just…want you to understand.”_ Christa understood as she remained awake in bed that her mentor did not pity her. She had seen the looks and stares when her fellow medical students found out about her past – a dead son, a husband who left her as soon as her son was buried – and the words and feeble attempts of saying they were sorry. Dr. Hudson did not pity her. She remembered of how he stared at her, with such understanding that Christa wondered how such a man could have so much compassion for a simple colleague. He respected her, with more respect that Christa had felt directed towards her in years. Somehow Christa found herself wanting to be by her mentor’s side, learning from him. Wanting to hear his pride directed at her, because…

        Somehow Dr. Hudson ceased and became Neal. Christa had been careful not to call him by his name in Angles, knowing that eyebrows would raise and gossip would rampant. _It’s just a name,_ Christa told herself as she worked alongside the English doctor. And yet, why did she continue to think of him with only the first name without professionalism attached? Why did her heartbeat seem to quicken when she heard her name coming from his lips. Christa remembered of how Neal’s hands briefly touched her shoulder, and she wondered now of how gentle his hands could possibly be. The memory of how his and his mother’s hands entwined as he told her to bear down like she was in labor echoed through Christa’s mind as she remembered the countless times she had watched Neal work. There were times at night when she wondered if his hands would be soft as well as gentle, noting of how the patients seemed to be more at ease with Neal if he touched their hands. _I don’t know what I want._

 _I don’t know what I want,_ Christa thought to herself again as she observed Neal closing up the patient. _Somehow…we were colleagues and now I don’t know what we are._ She could his fingers, moving backward and forward as the patient was closed up. _I started to pay attention to his hands, and now I cannot simply stop thinking about it._

_About him._

_It is…against the rules, the feelings that I am starting to have._ She remembered of how Neal couldn’t fully look at her in the eye after they had breakfast together for the first time. She had told him that there was nothing awkward about having breakfast with a colleague and having a couple of drinks. Christa remembered of how he had not talked to her after covering for Mario, feeling shockingly disappointed when he did not say anything. _I didn’t expect it to hurt so much, and I was very happy when we started to actually talk again._ She had not expected that the absence of their conversations and his voice would affect her so much. Christa had many times been ignored by her ex-husband, and even when she had been in love with him, Neal’s silence seemed to cause a strange emptiness in her.

_I started to imagine what his hands would feel like if I held his hand. I started to…wonder what it would feel like if my hand was against his chest…measuring his heartbeat._

        “Christa.” The blond resident almost jumped, feeling Neal’s gaze on her as they stood outside the OR. Christa forced herself to not to swallow, staring at the confusion in the attending’s gaze as their eyes locked. “What’s wrong, Christa? You haven’t said anything since we got of the OR.”

         Christa understood that Neal was starting to worry when she did not respond. He started to say something, but fell short when Christa’s hands suddenly found his own.

         They were warm. Warmer than Christa thought them to be. Her smaller hands fit into his own, and she took a chance and stared into his eyes. She understood the chemicals of love. And yet, Christa could not contain her shock when she found Neal’s dilated pupils boring into her own.

          “How long?” she asked, barely a whisper.

          “I don’t know,” he whispered. His voice was slightly hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “Since...we had breakfast together,” Neal stated as he tried to not look at her. It did not work. His accent became thicker as he blinked heavily. “I have had feelings…for you for quite a while, Christa. I am sorry.”

           “Why are you apologizing?” Christa asked, realizing now that she felt quite warm – her body could not move as she stared at Neal in front of her. _He apologized too for the drinks,_ she thought with fondness. _And for having the supposed protective scrubs torn off me even though I volunteered._

           “You do not have feelings for me,” Neal said haltingly. The pain was clear in his eyes, and he swallowed thickly. Christa took that moment to release her hold on his hands. Neal’s expression tried to conceal the shock and mounting pain starting to drown in his eyes when Christa held his other hand – warm and skin as smooth as she had thought – and pressed her lips upon his skin. The effect was instantaneous. Christa could feel her body grow hot, the oxygen and carbon dioxide exchanged rapidly as Neal moved closer to her. The man across from her seemed tense, his facial muscles showing strain.

            “This is nothing to apologize for, Neal.” Christa stated as she heard the faint rasp of breath coming from him at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Her lips caressed his skin again before kissing his fingers. His fingers were as soft and smooth as she imagined, and she watched his face as she kissed his five fingers, barely a touch against her lips. His eyes were open and his body still. His eyes dilating further, and she could feel his breath against her eyelids as she kissed his thumb. “Your hands are amazing,” Christa breathed as she moved her face closer towards his. “Able to do so much gentle work, and yet…” She caressed his other hand, almost smiling at the contact, feeling his palm and moving her fingers towards his wrist. “ _You_ are amazing, Neal.”

            His hand caressed her face, prompting a slight shiver as she looked into his eyes. His hands were even gentler than Christa had imagined and she allowed herself to stare at his face. _Handsome,_ she thought.

            She felt his hands cup her face, his fingers caressing her skin. _So gentle…_ Christa thought as his face moved closer towards hers. _So warm and smooth…_ His breath lingered against her face, and she started to smile.

             She felt his lips against her own, soft and warm as his hands continued to caress her face. _Amazing,_ Christa thought as her lips slowly moved against his own, feeling the fullness of his lips. _This is amazing…_

_That I could fall in love with you because of your hands._


End file.
